Demon 04 - Deja Demon
“Yelling, I could handle. I could glare and say that nobody talks to me in that tone, no matter how upset they are. I could yell back. I could flounce out of the room, insisting that I wouldn’t return until he calmed down. (The only problem with that plan being that I’ve never really been the flouncing type.) Stuart, however, wasn’t yelling. For the last three hours, in fact, he’d barely spoken a word, and the words he had spoken were utterly, remarkably, damnably civil.
Yet another reason he’d ...win the election. The man knows how to control his emotions. That was for damn sure.
The same could not be said for me.
I fidgeted. I twisted. I started conversational threads that hung out there, finally dying a slow, painful death from lack of fertilization.
Mostly, I spun the little arrow on Hi Ho! Cherry-O and plucked cherries from a paper tree. It wasn’t cathartic, but it was safe.
“My turn!” Timmy said, then flicked the arrow so hard that all our cherries shifted on our trees, as if an earthquake had hit our orchard.MoreLess
Yet another reason he’d ...win the election. The man knows how to control his emotions. That was for damn sure.
The same could not be said for me.
I fidgeted. I twisted. I started conversational threads that hung out there, finally dying a slow, painful death from lack of fertilization.
Mostly, I spun the little arrow on Hi Ho! Cherry-O and plucked cherries from a paper tree. It wasn’t cathartic, but it was safe.
“My turn!” Timmy said, then flicked the arrow so hard that all our cherries shifted on our trees, as if an earthquake had hit our orchard.MoreLess
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